


Swag Match

by Celi1208



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, Oral, Self fondling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26267014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celi1208/pseuds/Celi1208
Summary: Very short story about whose "sexual swag" is better.
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Swag Match

Celi had her eye on Juice for a while. She didn't mind putting in 8 hour shifts doing bar and kitchen duty for it kept him closer to her. The guys loved her cause she was different: African American, short curly hair, funny, smart, brutally honest, sexy as fuck but NOT a crow-eater. She had too much dignity for that.

The Church doors opened, the guys strolled up to the bar. And Princess of the Put – Downs suddenly got a new challenger. As she set up beers and shots,  
they all lined up when Bobby wondered aloud which sex was better in bed – male or female? Juice piped up from the right end

"Men are better cause our swag is bigger."

She grinned to herself as she  
thought 'somebody got swag now, huh?' Jax looked at her knowingly from the center and said

"I know you're not gonna take that."

She strolled to where Juice was and said

"A woman's swag lasts longer."

There were laughs, hands slamming on the bar and shouts of "Ooooh!" Juice laughed and smiled that gorgeous smile of his that could put shame to a thousand suns.

"My swag is harder."

\- amid thunderous applause and  
slaps on the back and Tig shouting "Yeah!" Celi gave secret smile that made the noise die down quickly. With a short nod as if in deep thought and with her  
eyes on Juice the whole time, she emerged from the bar to face him. The room went silent as she put her left hand down her jeans, getting them wet. Her face filling with an expression of recognition at finding the destination. She brought the first and middle fingers in front of her mouth, suddenly shoving them into his and said,

"Mine is tastier."

For a second, he fought. But his back was to them. She saw his jaw work as his tongue encircled her digits. His face was incredulous. He lost the match but ended up with the prize. Tig sat with his mouth agape, the only time he EVER wished he was Juice. Hap worked the toothpick in his mouth till it broke. She held his face with her other hand and said  
"It's yours, Papi. All you have to do is get it. There's plenty more to get."

Gemma called in from the front door,

"Celi, it's time to get the supplies."

She gently removed herself from the astounded gaze of all the Sons. Juice looked like a changed man. She could tell Tig was erect. Jax and Hap had dark bright fires behind their vision. Ope and Bobby raised a shot glass to her. Still with her eyes on him, knowing what the words would sound like, replied "I'm coming." Seeing his breath leave him and walked off. Gemma passed her to see why it was so quiet, why so many jaws were dropped. Outside, she said to Celi

“Do I even ask?”

To which Celi said,

“Nope”.

NO ONE had more swag than her.


	2. Later in the Day After Swag Match

Later in the day after ‘Swag Match’

When the guys returned from club business,  
Celi has since returned and was wiping the   
bar down. Tig comes up, takes her old fashioned  
glass of tequila and sangria. Holding it delicately   
atop his fingers, he shifted it to all sides; smelling  
and licking the frost off. Round and round on a  
carousel of private elation.

Paying no mind to her, as she looked at him like   
he was crazy before saying 

“I’ve since washed my hands.”

“Damn it!”, he muttered. Placing it back atop the bar.


	3. Day After Swag Match Night

Night After Swag Match Day

Celi and Juice were going at it hot and heavy. It took every ounce of restraint to keep herself from jumping him in the clubhouse. Whenever he’d pass by or ask for a beer, she tried not to look at him too long for fear of being caught staring at him. And he always smiled at her. Yet somehow, she always knew he  
was watching her work. She could feel his eyes on her ass as she walked by.

She loved the feeling it gave her for only he could make her feel that way: excited to the point where she could barely breathe.

Full of pride, she decided from the start she’d rather work than be a Crow-Eater.  
The chicks would line up to bring beers for the guys,  
telling her, “I couldn’t do your job.”

And, after seeing them in the  
morning, reeking of their cheap perfume and sex scents left on them by various bikers from the night before, she’d reply “And I couldn’t do yours.”

So, after a few rooftop convos, Juice invited her to his place. It was neat enough for a bachelor, not sloppy at all. As soon as she sat on the  
sofa, she knew that’s where she’d want him. She brought DVD’s as a buffer, but they both knew they’d never get around to watching them.  
His large, brown eyes mirroring what she felt throughout her body. The desire  
peaked to her chest as she could feel her nipples harden through  
the thin, black t – shirt she wore.

And as soon as she thought it, he looked down,  
confirming her suspicion.

They moved toward each other at the same time:  
biting, gasping amid fevered kisses and labored breathing. His house  
phone rang. “No”, she whines a little, not wanting a delay. He didn’t want to answer but replied “I gotta pick up. it’s the club. They're the only ones who call.” Her hands running over his body, faster than her mind could keep up as he cuts the call short on the line,

“Yeah.”

“Right, I know.”

“It’s already done.”

“Okay Tig, Bye.”

She knew enough not to ask what it was about. He leaned forward, she leaned back, the movement knocking the phone onto the table. From being  
only half on the hook.

The next day Celi came in to clean and set up the bar at 9 a.m., wondering why there was a big hush as she entered the room. She wasn’t there five  
minutes when Tig, Hap and Chibs drew her attention to them. Hap starts rhythmically pounding the table they were sitting at while Tig does his  
impersonation of female moaning. HER moaning from last night. His voice laden with teasing meant to humiliate - "Si, Pop-py! Mas! Mas!", Spanish he probably learned all of five minutes ago. She realized the phone wasn’t hung up after Juice spoke and they heard EVERYTHING. Her back was to them but she could see them in the bar mirrors.  
Their faces full of broad smirks and satisfied glances that knew EXACTLY what she and Juice did. They must’ve gotten an earful as she admitted to herself that she can get pretty loud. Juice, true to his word, did what he said he would. She lost count  
the number of times she screamed his name and how many orgasms she had. And the neighbors, when she did see them, couldn't look her in the eye.

She could feel the glint in her eyes rising,  
slightly blurring her vision. It was then that she knew what she was going to do. She prided herself on being a confident woman who could handle just about anything. She was not going to hide or be ashamed of her sexuality. If someone tried to give her shit, humiliate her, she made damn sure she’d dish it right back. The noises died down as she strode to where they sat, carrying a small, closed cardboard box.  
She went to where Tig was seated on her left and placed her right hand on the table and her left hand on his thigh, trailing her gaze from her hand to his face. She was inches from his sky blue eyes that were now filled with rampant lust and the very last traces of restraint. That he kept in check because he wanted to see what she'd do. She had no fear, just a large amount of careful calculation. She licked her lips slowing before speaking, for she knew they all thought of them as perfect for wrapping them around certain things. She'd give them more fuel for the fantasies. “I wonder what excited you more: the sounds you heard me make or the pleasure you got from hearing me.” For once Tig was without an answer, he just shrugged his shoulders, obviously undecided. She inched a little closer armed with a trio of thickly paced  
questions in his ear that they all heard -

“When you worked it out, either by fucking or jacking off. Because I KNOW you did,  
(slow inhale) any man would after hearing me. Did you make it last as long as possible or did you come hard and fast instead?”

(The hand on his thigh she inched closer) “Did my voice echo inside your head while you did it?”

“Would you give anything to re-experience that heady, well-earned release?”

He looked at her, his head swimming considering all possible options before nodding "yes".  
She glanced towards Chibs and Hap. The looks in his brothers’ eyes were clouded to different extents of lust as well as she held their attention.   
Mouths open, trying not to breathe heavy. To say they were intrigued was an understatement. She straightened up slowly and took a breath calmly saying, “Well then, I’d suggest you'd better get started.” As she opened the box she brought over  
and placed before each of them a small bottle of baby oil, making sure Tig’s bottle was shoved into his hands. As she pivoted and strutted back to the bar, she could hear Tig say “I think I love you.”  
To which she glanced back, devilish glint in her eyes still dancing and replied, “As you should.”


End file.
